Two Choices
by forgetablelove
Summary: Harry goes to the Leaky Cauldron in search of someone and finds her... HarryxPansy


Love was a messy topic. It wasn't something anyone could define, but a different emotion for everyone. Not even lovers had the same experience. The worst thing was when you weren't sure the person who you loved didn't love you in return.

Leaning against the counter, Harry looked out over the crowd at the Leaky Cauldron, searching for her unmistakable dark brown hair. Spotting her, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to work up the nerve to speak to her. The temptress had been teasing him all week, flirting, batting her eye lashes, and giggling. But there was always a hard look in her brown eyes; it was like a deep-seeded paranoid of the human race is a whole.

Leaning back in the booth and sipping a glass of red wine, she was staring at a spot on the ceiling, not making eye contact with anyone. He wanted to approach her, to tell her she'd been on his mind. It wasn't that he was sure he was in love with her. In fact, he was sure he wasn't, but he was sure that he could fall in love with her given the chance.

All he needed was one chance to sway her, to make her open to the possibility of him.

But she wasn't an easy one to convince. The constant darkness in her gaze could make even the strongest man doubt himself. And Harry wasn't a strong man, at least not in the area of romance.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself off the counter and walked to her table. "Hello."

She didn't look at him when he approached her table, but he knew she had noticed him. She always was vigilant. "Hello Harry," she said evenly, her voice even.

"Can I seat down?" he asked, wishing for eye contact, for just a i sign /i she might be interested.

Finally, she turned to him, a flirtatious smile flittering over her lips. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Who am I do deny you?"

He rolled his eyes. He i hated /i when she called him 'Mr. Potter.' It was so formal, so irritating. But without argument, he sat down across from her, looking her in the eye. He could drown in her dark brown eyes. They held secrets and a pure cynicism that he could, somehow, relate to. The gaze didn't detour him from his goal despite the anxiety it created within in him. He didn't want to be rejected, but something within him wouldn't let him back down now.

He tilted this head to the side and looked at her. "What brings you hear tonight?"

She shrugged. "I'm always here."

He sighed. "You are quite the evasive one, aren't you?"

"A woman is entitled to her secret."

"I have a feeling you have more than one." The banter was getting easier, but it still wasn't where he wanted to be. "I came here for the chance to see you again," he stated boldly, squirming in his seat with anticipation of her reaction.

She merely quirked an eyebrow at him with a coy smile on her lips as she said, "Is that right?" She leaned forward, interested.

He nodded slowly. "Why would I lie?"

She laughed, her hand fluttered to her neck. She paused as she batted her long eyelashes at him. "Well, then I'm happy I could be here so it wasn't a wasted trip."

"Even if you hadn't been here, the mere act of trying to see you would have made the trip worth the effort."

"You have… subtle but obvious lines, Mr. Potter."

He shrugged. "I'm not using any lines."

"Ah, so you're a natural? I never would have thought that. I've never pegged you for a ladies' man."

Clearing his throat he admitted, "I'm not. But I know what I want and go after it."

"Impulsive and a natural. A nice combination."

"Evasive and beautiful. A nice combination," Harry shot back with a smile.

"Well, Mr. Potter, how that you have found me, what do you want to do?" She leaned back in her booth, looking at him with those beautiful, big brown eyes.

"I'm not sure. It depends on you."

"Oh the lady gets to choose? Very nice. Do go on."

"The way I see it is that you have two choices."

"What are those?"

"Either meet me here tomorrow night at nine, or come back to my place tonight and leave tomorrow morning at nine."

She straightened her shoulders at his brazen remark. The words have flowed out of him before he had a moment to think about what he was actually going to say. Maybe he was a natural, or just an idiot who was about to get rejected. Bracing himself for the rejection, he gauged her reaction. It was slow: the expression crossing her face was a mix of shock and interest. Harry closed his eyes, relieved that he saw even a hint of interest in her face. He clung to the hope that he still had a chance with her and he hadn't already blown it.

"Well," she said softly, her voice low and husky. "I think the latter sounds more interesting to than the former. Depending on the activities you have in mind, of course."

Rapidly, he stood from his seat and moved around the table to her. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to her feet, tugging her to his chest and wrapping his arms around her waist. His mouth ascended on hers for a long moment that stood still for him. She was soft and willing in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

When her mouth opened under his, he eagerly swept in to taste and tease her. The kiss ended abruptly when she pulled away, breathing hard.

He felt her warm breath on his face when she whispered, "The latter. I chose the second choice."

Sighing heavily, he smiled down at her. "Well, Pansy Parkinson, I think that is definitely doable. In fact, it would be my pleasure."

Pansy giggled. "Trust me, if I have my way, I will be your pleasure. And mine."


End file.
